три. nothing
" i have nothing "

THE CHIME OF BELLS sounded out through the coffee shop. She was immediately hit with the warmth, contrasting from autumn's rather chilly breeze that rolled around. Her strawberry-blonde curls bounced rhythmically with every step as always, eyes scanning the people in the coffee shop. It was rather empty, and people who were there left rather quickly in a rush, take out coffee cups in their hands. The morning's rush hour was hard to avoid.

"Let me guess, it's going to be a large, take-out cappuccino with sweetener," the man behind the counter smiled warmly at the redhead who raised her brows.

He was a rather attractive man in her opinion. He had pale skin and strong, prominent brows. His jaw was sharp and cheekbones chiselled - yet not as much as Spencer's. His hair was short, brushed up and his eyes were rather narrow, crinkling whenever he smiled. However, aside from his looks, she really wasn't interested.

"You memorised my order? I'm impressed."

"I tend to be good at my job."

"One thing we have in common."

Flashing her a grin, Valentine looked down at her wrist, checking the time on the gold, Michael Kors watch. 8:36. She didn't notice the man who had joined her side, making it more of a surprise and shock to the agent when they had spoke up.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say they like you."

The hush voice of Spencer Reid made her look beside her at the man of the hour. Rolling her green eyes, she found herself looking back in the direction of the man who prepared her coffee. Spencer took to account her action, smiling to himself.

"I'm just saying," he continued, "Judging by the way he-"

"Let me guess, you've got time to kill before your 8am arrival at the BAU so you're here for some coffee?"

"Let me guess, you're due at 8am and I'm irritating you?"

"First smart thing you've said today, good morning to you too Reid."

"Good manners for someone who's irritated with me."

"Are we just going to go back and forth like this?"

"Yep."

Suddenly, their heads both turned to face each other. They shared a look, Spencer flashing her a heaven-sent, cheeky smile. His dimples appeared, the corners of his lips pointing upwards.

"Coffee's ready, pretty girl."

"Told you," Spencer sang quietly. Ignoring the barista, Valentizina nodded slowly and pat Spencer's arm two times.

"Spencer, I hate you. Have a lovely day."

Walking towards the counter, she was quick to throw a ten-dollar bill at the man, gripping the coffee and walking away without taking the change. She spared one last look at Spencer who opened his mouth to speak, yet Valentizina stopped him. She raised her brows, pointing a finger at him.

"Einstein, you can't afford to talk to me."

"Sorry, Bill Gates."

"Actually, Jeff Bezo is richer than Bill Gates."

"Whose Einstein now?"

"Still you, Einstein."

And sending a wink at him, she slipped out the coffee shop.

•••

"Whose funeral is it?"

"I'm still deciding. What's the sitch?"

Valentizina had walked into the briefing room, Spencer right behind her. He had managed to catch up right outside the office and much to her dismay, followed the strawberry blonde. But there wasn't much she could do about it. Derek's funeral comment had been to do about her choice of colour; her clothes persisted of only the colour black today - but she was wearing her good leather jacket. Her tank top was tight and so were her high-waist, skinny jeans. And as usual, her 5" heels were the first to grab everyone's attention.

"Take a look at this," JJ explained, pressing the play button on the laptop as Valentizina sat herself down between Derek and Spencer.

The footage displayed a man, dressed in a black ski mask pointing a gun and shouting at a bunch of naked elderly and adults. He was embarrassing them. Threatening them. Screaming at them. Absolutely stripping them from any bit of safety or confidence they had in them. He walked around them in circles, hitting them and punching them before he dragged them by the ears around the place. And that's when JJ decides they saw enough, pausing the video and continuing to speak.

"Over the past two months, the L.A. Field office has been tracking a series of 4 bank robberies in the L.A. Metro area. It's one individual wearing a black ski mask. He's highly skilled. It's his unique M.O. that put him squarely in our court. This happened two days ago."

JJ was quick to look in the direction of Valentizina, pointing at her.

"We're counting on you. This is your case. He's smart, quick and dangerous."

"If this is my case then allow me to cut this whole conversation about five minutes short. He's looking to embarrass his victims. To get them at their weakest point. There's absolutely no point waving a gun around at fully clothed men and women who have the confidence to run out on the streets. But naked? No one's going to run. They'll feel ashamed. They'll feel scared. It's a psychological advantage for him. In his hand is a Mac-10. I've got one of those and the amount of firepower that man is holding is far too strong for anything they've got to fight back."

"We wouldn't be having this case if it wasn't for the last two robberies. One, he beat the security guard nearly senseless, and two, after he made everyone undress, he forced two pairs of victims together at gunpoint, then he made them simulate sex with each other."

"It's remarkable," Spencer muttered, looking up from his pen and speaking to everyone, "By utilizing practical M. O, he unsub has stumbled on to a psychological signature."

"He's a sex offender now. Fueled by violent rage. Only our unsub doesn't know it yet. If he did, he wouldn't be robbing banks anymore," Elle scoffed.

"So, he's a violent sex offender in denial," Hotch added on, Elle following.

"And a sexual predator who's just escalated his crimes."

"He's a serial killer in the making."

"Alianovna," Hotch called out to the girl who look at him immediately, "You sure you're ready for this?"

"Stupid question, wheels up in 30."

•*•*•

"Stripping bandit. That's terrible. That makes it sound like the bandit's doing the stripping," Elle sighed, Valentizina leaning back in her seat.

Sat on the plane, they were discussing today's case. Elle has printed off the news article with the headline she judged negatively, passing it to Hotch before taking a seat beside him. With no surprise, Derek chose the seat beside Valentizina who would rather be sat on her own but was forced to join them for this short session.

"What would you call him?" JJ asked, receiving a quick reply from Elle.

"Pervert."

"Scumbag."

"I'd call him an ass-"

Derek's comment was quickly cut off by Hotchner's disapproving tone.

"Hey, focus, please. We have the details of the 4 bank robberies to learn before we get to Los Angeles."

"At this point is he more a bank robber or a sex offender?" Spencer wondered out loud.

"Seriously. What's he going to do next, rob a bank or rape somebody?"

"I'd say we need to know more about how he robs the banks - and who he chooses to victimize. Why these banks and why these victims? Pairing these specific people together is a fantasy," Elle appealed.

Hotch agreed with the woman, nodding. His eyes looked up from the files in front of him and looked between Elle, Derek and Valentizina (who were the closest people to him) before speaking up, "If we can figure out the nature of that fantasy, we may be able to predict his targets. In the last robbery I don't see any photos of what he made the victims actually do."

"There is a problem with this surveillance system. We're working on it," JJ interrupted.

"We should hit the ground running. How should we break it down?"

"There's got to be a pattern to the banks. We should run a geographical profile," Spencer suggested, Hotch nodding.

"That's yours."

"And for the sexual aspects, we need to look at the specific victimology," Elle said.

"You and I can go with the victim reports, see whatever surveillance footage they've got."

"Leaves the unsub himself. We'll need his perspective," Gideon reminded them, looking between Alianovna and Spencer who looked at each other before answering at the same time.

"Crime scene."

"That was terrifying. They're so in sync," JJ muttered, shaking her head as Derek nodded with a small smirk, agreeing.

So in sync...

•*•*•

Wednesday's warm sun - which was certainly much better than Quantico's cold weather - shon down on the agents. The midday temperature caused Valentizina to breathe out, looking around the place they were stood at. Awaiting for the arrival of a detective, they stood outside a bank at the corner of a a street. They watched the cars pass by slowly, watching the drivers that took a look at why the area was sectioned on with police tape.

Yet the detective seemed to be nowhere in site, making the woman roll her eyes and look down at her watch. Spencer noticed the action, yet said nothing because if he was going to be honest, he was just as annoyed with the detective poor time management as Valentizina. And looking in the direction of Gideon and Derek, they seemed to be just as confused over the whereabouts of the man they were expecting.

"Rather quiet," Spencer commented, raising his brows.

"Why start a conversation I don't want to have?"

"Practice. That guy at the coffee shop-"

Spencer's comment was cut off quickly by the presence of a detective. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the two agents, his brow raising at the small redhead especially. He didn't mean to judge too quickly, yet he didn't believe Valentizina was going to be much help. Or maybe he was just misogynistic... He stopped in front of them.

"The suspect entered around 2:00 P.M. And a witness said he saw a man on a motorcycle with a backpack speed by a few minutes after the robbery," he began, not bothering to introduce himself. The lack of manners made Spencer and Valentizina look at each other, the strawberry blonde agent looking back at the detective.

"SSA Valentizina Alianovna."

"Dr Spencer Reid. Freeway's just a few blocks that way, right?" he question, pointing to the right direction.

"Actually, we're within a half-mile of 3 freeways."

"This is a perfect location. If he's on a bike, he's got no trouble getting out of here," Spencer commented, Gideon making his way over. He slid his hands in his pockets, taking his place beside the detective.

"Well, first he's got to get to his bike. Where's it parked?" Gideon commented.

"It could be anywhere," the detective suggested, quickly being fired down by Valentizina shaking her head.

"Wrong. A guy this good wouldn't risk his bike not being anywhere near when he comes out. He'd park illegally. Probably not in the parking lot, but further down the block, maybe, or right across the street here. We need to know if any of these places have security cameras that might have caught the bike."

Gideon, Morgan and Reid looked at each other, throwing a look at each other before looking at the man who was shocked by the redhead's outburst. But she simply looked between the four men, motioning with a nod towards the building behind them.

"Ready?" she rhetorically asked the group, "Let's go rob a bank."

Spinning around on her heel, Valentizina made her way over to the bank. Walking away from the men, she strutted rather quickly. The redhead pushed open the door and immediately, her eyes began scanning the surroundings of the place. The cool, ventilated air immediately cooled down her clammy skin, quickly making her take a step into the building.

It revealed a group of officers who immediately looked her way, eyeing the girl up and down. Yet she ignored them, looking at the crime scene instead towards the number-cards on the floor and yellow police tape. There was no blood. It had all been washed away and sent for analysis. All that was left out was cones and officers. Not much to work with anymore, but that wouldn't exactly change anything.

Derek was quick to join her side, immediately looking around with her. They were standing in a spot that had the perfect overview of the whole place. Of the back door to the vault. Of the circle of victims. Of the front entrance and back entrance. Of the front desk...

"So, he enters and he walks right to this spot. Pulls his weapon out and shoots into the ceiling right there," Derek began, looking at Spencer who added on.

"That gets everyone's attention, let's them all know he's dead serious."

Valentizina continued, nodding to herself, "Efficient. This is the best spot in the bank. I can see all the tellers, the front door, and that's the back office over there."

"So, he knew exactly where to go," Gideon thought aloud, earning a nod of approval from the agents.

"He had been here before," Valentizina reveals.

"Next?"

"Next, he turns, - aims the gun at the guard. Disarms the guard and handcuffs him to the base. So, where's the threat? The guard's disarmed and chained."

"How's he a threat to the unsub?"

"He isn't," Derek shook his head, chiming in.

"Then why did he take the time to assault?"

"He's got control, he's obviously got skills, the very thing that he doesn't have is time," Valentizina explained, "He didn't assault the guards in the previous banks, why? What's changed? What's different about this guard?"

"Maybe this guard reminded him of somebody," Derek wondered.

"What were the guards in the previous robberies wearing? Uniforms?" Gideon asked.

"Black suits."

The confirming silence seemed to confuse the bald man in the suit that was leaning against the desk. His amused facial expression wasn't ignored by Valentizina who was getting annoyed by the minute at the attitude he seemed to give the agents. She rolled her eyes, tapping her feet against the ground, crossing her arms.

"That's it? That's all?" he scoffed.

Derek's head turned towards his direction, giving him a threatening type look before his whole body turned his way, slowly walking towards him. It was a threatening type of walk that seemed to make the man tense but put on a brave facial expression, as if he didn't care.

"Our boy's efficient, he's determined. This ain't his first picnic. He's got his trade down cold. Something about a guy in uniform triggers an emotional response," Derek explained, textbook style.

"Army?"

"No. Army, you're conditioned to work with people. This guy, he don't trust anybody."

"Prison," Valentizina answered, joining Spencer's side, both of them looking at the man with a judgemental look, "Best trade school in the country."

•*•*•

Tossing the last picture on the ground, Derek took a few steps to get a bigger overview of them all. Their eyes scanned over the photographs of each of the victims that night at the bank spread out amongst the blue carpet beneath their feet. The victims ranged in different ages. From young adults, to middle aged adults to the elderly. The popular age range to be in a bank. No kids. Or at least they didn't know about it if there were any.

Valentizina was stood still with one arm wrapped around her waist, her other resting on top, tapping her bottom lip in concentration.

"He knows the kids are theirs?" Gideon asked the detective.

"Witnesses said he checked their wallets first. He would have seen their names."

"So, of all 13 people, he puts together woman in her 60's, guy in his 30's, married couple in front of their kids. Why?" Gideon thought, Derek shrugging.

But Spencer popped up, suggesting, "Maybe they were the most inappropriate couples he could think of. He's sadistic. Would explains why he brings them here. He could have taken them behind the teller windows, he could have taken them back into the vault, but he chooses here. It's the most exposed place in the bank."

"Like a stage. Like, it was as important for them to see what was going on as it was for him. Public humiliation. Embarrassment," Valentizina reminded them. He looked at her, remembering only a few hours earlier where she spoke about embarrassment and how he may have stripped them to embarrass and weaken them. Nodding in agreement, he looked at the detective, Gideon and Derek, who began explaining,

"Robbery wasn't about the money. It was about getting off on what he made these people do on this spot. Forcing others to squirm and watch. We got to know what exactly they were forced to do. We need to see the fantasy."

"Did you ever get a hold of the security videos?" Gideon asked the detective who sighed and tilted his head for a few seconds.

"Yes, but they were mostly erased."

•*•*•

Spencer spun the wheel, driving into another street. The silence between the two was cancelled out by the soft music playing on the radio. It wasn't an ideal song that suited either of their tastes, yet it was good enough to not make the car drive any more awkward than it really needed to be.

"You know, somehow, we're always together and yet can't hold a single conversation together."

"Will you shut up next time if I full-fill this wish, Einstein?"

"Your wish is my command."

"Fine. What would you like to talk about?"

"You. You know, after you went home, the team gathered together. No one knows anything about you. There's a lack of trust. Your files are empty. Your fighting skills are almost too good to be true. You're quiet. You don't talk much, not because you're bad at it but you just don't like it. You don't laugh, don't smile, don't joke. And you don't seem affected by this job whatsoever. You've saw women screaming for help, getting hurt but you don't seem to care. As if you don't feel. I'm a genius, but being honest Valentizina, I don't think even a genius can figure you out."

The redhead scoffed, sinking in her seat and putting her feet on the dash. Her exposed legs made him raise his brows but look back at the road.

She supposed she didn't have an answer that would ever satisfy him. Unless she told him the truth. Which she never would. Or not yet at least. It was far too wicked. It would get her fired. It would make the last 5 years of training in and out of different schools, getting diplomas and PhD's and getting a job at the FBI to make up for her past useless. The truth was, every single day, Valentizina dug herself deeper and deeper into a hole of self-blame. She used to tell herself it wasn't her fault. That she was taken from her home and forced to become a murder machine. Forced to kill people. Forced to not think. Forced to not eat. Yet now, she believed it was her fault. That she could have stopped it. Some way, she could have.

"And what if I don't want to be figured out? I just want a little privacy. You guys are not my friends. I don't need you prying into every little bit of my life because I work with you a few days a week and spit a couple of jokes a day."

"Your little act the other day said over wise. You could have let me get knocked out by that hat. But you didn't. You-"

"It was my mission to catch the unsub and I caught the unsub. You're not my friend. You think we stand next to each other a couple of times that I would die for you? I wouldn't. We work together."

Spencer grew silent, nodding slowly. They pulled into the parking lot of the P.D. The silence consumed them, making her take her feet of the dashboard and look out the window, waiting for him to unlock the doors. Yet he looked at the redhead, leaning a little closer, inches apart from Valentizina.

"We may not be friends, but being an emotionless being who doesn't trust others will not get you anywhere in an environment where the life of others are put into your hands. You don't fool me one bit, Valentine."

"I'm just playing the game."

"And I'm winning."

They stared at each other, and it took everything in their will to not. Look. Down.

The click of the unlock button that he had pressed made Spencer immediately open the door. His finally tore his eyes away from the redhead, tossing the keys at Valentizina to catch as he stepped out of the vehicle and closed the door.

She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, watching him walk away. Her furrowed brows finally unscrewed themselves, her body falling back into the backrest. She looked up at the roof of the car.

Because this wasn't the first time the lives of others have been out in her hands.

Valentizina screamed, her veins protruding out of her skin. The cloth inside her mouth was muffling the sounds of pain, the palms of her hands dripping in blood as she dug her nails into them. Her whole body was tied into a chair, connected to a voltage machine, powered on the highest level.

The headphones in her ears shouted words, almost deafening her.

"подчиниться! Слушайте! убийство!"
Obey! Listen! Kill!

And all the sudden, everything stopped, leaving a crying Valentizina. She was quiet, not a sob daring to leave her mouth. Yet her tears were running down her face like waterfalls.

"Не доверяй никому, кроме нас. мы знаем лучше."
Do not trust anyone but us. We know better.

Her eyes snapped open as quick as a bolt of lightning, immediately pushing open the door and stepping out. Feeling some sort of level of fury, she proceeded in slamming the car door shut with no care. Without looking back, she pressed the lock button on the set of keys, listening in for a little tone that played out as it locked. She couldn't let anything get to her now. That was childish. That was weak. That was pointless. Her footsteps were loud and angry, quick and eye-catching so when she pulled the door open to the station, it wasn't hard for anyone to figure that she wasn't in the best of moods.

Valentizina stormed into the room with her team, taking her place beside Derek who almost flinched when she took a seat beside him.

His eyes lingered on her for a moment, before looking back at Spencer, pressing his lips together.

Yikes...

"That's Henderson, the bank manager," the detective spoke, acknowledging the late arrival of the redhead. Yet he brushed it off, instead pointing at the old looking man in the footage shown. He was, like everyone else, half naked with nothing but his boxers on. Weak and fragile, just what the unsub wanted. She raised her head up in interest, tilting it as she looked at the detective, "Said he was so flustered after what he had been through, that when he was gathering the tapes for us, he hit the wrong buttons and erased part of them."

"You believe him?" Gideon puzzled, making the detective chuckle and shake his head.

"No. I told him I thought he was embarassed about the tapes getting out and he erased them on purpose. He denied it."

"You rule out the possibility he was on it?" Hotch quizzed the detective.

Yet the bald man threw a puzzled facial expression at Hotch, not understanding his point, "Why would he be involved in a robbery when he had to go through something like that?"

"Maybe he didn't know what was going to happen. Maybe he was betrayed by the unsub," Elle suggested.

"Or perhaps he was coerced. There's been many documented cases of robbers forcing bank managers to assist them with their crimes."

"None of that is consisted with the M.O's of the other robberies," detective defended.

"Maybe there's a reason this last one was different from the others."

Derek's suggestion wasn't questioned as Aaron worked quick. He pressed a button on the telephone's answer machine, immediately connecting them to a server which they all knew was most likely Garcia, who seemed to be the saviour of the team at all times. God bless Penelope Garcia and her magic.

"Garcia," Aaron confirmed, speaking into the machine, "It's Hotch."

"Are we ready for something completely weird?"

Her rhetorical question took them all by surprise, making the redhead speak up.

"How weird are we talking, Garcia?"

"The security footage Hotch gave me, I ran it through my software 3 times. And there are height issues. The unsub In the first three robberies is 6 foot 1 and the unsub in the last robbery is 5'10"."

"So what?" Derek asked, "In the last robbery we're dealing with a different unsub?"

"An unsub who is somehow able to erase tapes that show exactly what happened at that bank."

"An unsub who may possibly have inside help."

All eyes turned to the redhead who was fast to stand up, looking down at her feet. She took over her heels, kicking them off and standing on the floor, showing her actual height. Five foot one. They were all surprised at seeing her tiny petite figure, yet confused as to why she did.

"Are you all stupid?"

Her question immediately made Spencer narrow his eyes. He understood. God he hated to admit it right now, considering they weren't in the best place currently, but she was smart...

"The heels give you height. He was wearing lifts to hide his tracks and real height."

"Except," Valentizina carried on, putting her heels back on, "He grew lazier on covering his tracks in the last robbery. He didn't take money. He just wanted them to be humiliated. He's growing sloppier, and unless there was something on that footage we're missing, we need to speak to the bank manager."

•*•*•

Sitting in the room beside the conference meeting, she was writing up everything they currently knew to save herself from writing the paperwork up later. It had been an hour since Gideon and Hotch returned from questioning the bank manager who seemed to not give them anything that helped with the case. Yet Valentizina was't convinced. She knew that someone was hiding something, and that's why there was no pattern. That's why nothing was adding up.

All the sudden, the phone beside her burst out in a loud chime of ringing, vibrating against the wooden table, making her sigh and bring it up to her ear, opening her mouth to speak while the pen never left the page, scribbling a large amount of words. However, before she could even start, the heavy breathing and whimpering on the line caused her to drop her pen, brows knitting together immediately.

"I'm... I'm at a-a bank. He's here. H-he's here. Corner of Washington and Sepulveda. P-please-"

The phone hung up. Valentizina suddenly jumped out her seat and sprinted into the room. Her echoing heels made everyone jump out the of the way, making space for the sprinting redhead. Her hand flew out in front of her, pushing open the doors.

Her eyes flew over the midst of agents, officers and detectives that were sat around the room. Their eyes, which were once plastered on Hotch and Gideon who were explaining the type of person the unsub was, flew towards the hyperventilating strawberry blonde.

"Bank robbery in the progress," she breathed out, looking over the crowded room, "Corner of Washington and Sepulveda. Sorry to cut this short, but we need to go."

"Gideon, you take one car," Hotch immediately replied. "Me, Morgan, Detective and Alianovna take another."

"Count me out!" the redhead called out, confusing them all, "There's too much traffic on the road. There is no point of all us being stuck in a car and risking losing him when I have a motorcycle licence."

And Derek was in the car and she was embarrassed because she was in the wrong and he was entirely correct and she doesn't want to admit it, but she decided to keep that reason in her head.

The agent pushed open the door, running out towards the motorcycle. She didn't bother with a helmet, even though she was well aware of how that broke the rules of riding on the streets. She could care less and certainly couldn't be bothered to find the helmet in the first place.

She placed herself on top of the seat, taking the key's out of her pocket and sticking them into the ignition at the side, hearing the engine roar to life. The vehicle rumbled under her, shaking with energy, making her press the gas pedal to hear its powerful roar. And as soon as she saw the agents pile into the car, she let them start driving before riding out herself.

She sped beside the car, mid-speed, looking around at the empty streets. She felt the wind through her long hair, revealing her determined facial expression. They turned corners of streets, until they turned a corner of their last one, ending up in traffic.

Time to shine.

Valentizina stamped on the gas pedal, speeding past cars, weaving in and out of them. The sound of horns honking became second nature to her at this point, ignoring them. All the sudden, a red light turned on, many vehicles driving in front of the line of frozen cars. Yet she never stopped.

"What is she doing? She's not stopping!" Derek raised his voice, noticing how she was speeding into a passing truck.

Valentizina pressed even harder, reaching top speed of the mighty machine, yet she was quick to lean the motorbike on one side.

She turned the motorbike towards the truck. All the sudden, skidding on the side, she drove beneath the truck as fast as possible, eyes squinting, trying to find the unsub. Before the large wheels of the truck could touch her, she was out, cutting a corner to get to the bank as fast as possible.

"Insane" Derek mumbled, his lips parted in shock.

The redhead sped through the streets of Washington, earning strange looks from the public which turned into shocked ones when they read the 'FBI' sign at the back of the motorcycle - if they were quick enough to read it. Valentizina turned another corner, immediately noticing a man sprint towards a motorcycle, throwing a punch at a woman. But he was quick to start the machine, speeding off ahead away from Valentizina who cursed aloud, trying her best to catch up.

He attempted to try lose her by driving through the pavements, taking short, abrupt turns. But she was too good, following his exact movement, never once taking an eye off him.

All of the sudden, they reached an almost dead end. Dead end for cars. But a way to escape for motorcycles. It was a barbed off fence, with a human sized hole in the middle of it, big enough to rid through.

Immediately, two cars drove into the lanes from either side, agents and officers jumping out.

Derek, Gideon, Spencer and Hotch stumbled to the side, noticing Valentizina who immediately aimed for the hole. However, she let go of the handles, beginning to stand up on the motorcycle, making them all furrow her brows. This is a literal suicide mission, Gideon thought, she'll never make it.

Without warning, the redhead pushed herself off the motorcycle, flying through the air. She watched as the motorcycle of the unsub drove up the ramp, but Valentizina was aiming towards him.

They all lowered their guns in astonishment, watching her flip right at the back of his motorcycle. Spencer's brows furrowed together, his arms dropping either side of him.

Valentizina raised her wrist towards her mouth, biting on the piece of string wrapped around it. She immediately snapped it, wrapping it around the front of his neck, making him abruptly loose control of the motorcycle. She swung her leg over, hitting him across the head, making both of them fall to the ground, rolling until Valentizina had the unsub pinned to the ground, ripping the mask from his face.

"Surprise," she dryly spoke, hearing the footsteps of running officers coming her way.

Gideon and Hotch looked at each other.

Valentizina had spoken of having a specific skill set. Yet they didn't know her levels of combat were that high. Anyone who would even dare attempt to repeat her actions just then would end up failing with serious injuries, or worse, death. They didn't know how she had that much precision to jump perfectly at the back of his motorcycle. How she had so much strength to knock him off the motorcycle. How she skidded underneath the truck successfully. But they were simply confused on how a woman with no background information on scored herself a place in the FBI and showcased that amount of skill.

One thing they knew for sure, Valentizina always won.

Valentizina got up off the man, brushing away the hair from her face, turning her head in the direction of her three co-workers who stared at her, bewildered.

The redhead had just saved their asses and cut their case about 4 hours short. And perhaps that was the moment in which Gideon realised: Valentizina was someone who was needed in the FBI for a long time, and now that they had her, everything would change.

She was their weapon.

And never would they ever dare to try disrespect someone who pushes the FBI up another level. Not ever again, Gideon thought.

They expected her to say something, yet she slipped past in between them, making her way to the car. Spencer and Derek knew she didn't have anything to say. She wasn't a talker. Yet talker or not, she didn't have to explain anything. Valentizina did what she told Derek. She did her job. It was as easy as that. Opening the door to the back seats, she was quick to get in, being glad that the windows were blacked out.

She let out a shakey sigh, looking up at the roof of the car, closing her eyes. She nearly died. And it was okay. She didn't have anything to lose. She caught the unsub. And that was okay.

Tucking in her long, curled strawberry blonde hair behind her ear, she made sure to straighten herself up, rolling down the window.

"Come on boys, I need coffee."

•••

The whole team looked through the window of the next room at Valentizina who was sat alone. She had an ice-pack placed on her hip, being held down with one hand while her other hand had a pen gripped, writing down an evaluation of the case, slowly coming up to the conclusion. She couldn't hear them, she didn't want to. Knowing that they were looking at her was enough for her to be annoyed, but she didn't want to say anything.

The woman was aware that she was going to be treated differently. It was bad enough that Hotch and Spencer saw the way she took down the unsub the other day, yet now the whole of her BAU team saw, each of them as shocked as the other.

She knew she would be treated as a weapon. Or as the freak with no past but the skills of an assassin. Either way, it wouldn't change the way she was treated before. Like the muscle. Like the shield they would just throw in front of them to fight. And of course she expected it. She was throwing herself to the other end. The one who killed was becoming the one in risk of being killed. Valentizina knew that she would have to fight for them.

But she just wished maybe she could be something a little more.

A friend?

But here came the thoughts of blaming herself. It was her fault. She couldn't open up. She didn't want to. She didn't smile. She didn't laugh. She was an emotionless being who didn't trust anyone but expected someone to be her friend.

It was her fault and Valentizina knew that.

Her own damn fault.

And suddenly, Valentizina didn't mind being the shield again. She was just doing her job.

All events lead to the unsub being caught midway through another bank robbery in the corner of Washington and Sepulveda. All victims have been took in for photographs but questioning will not be necessary. In conclusion,

Valentizina picked the pen back up, pressing the ice pack back on her bruised hip.

Spencer finally spoke up.

"She's the best agent we've got. According to my calculations, if we had let him get away, it would add another four hours of interviewing the victims, bank manager and others for details on where to find him. She saved us time. She saved more victims..."

"So what, we're just going to use her to fight all unsubs off?" JJ retorted, not liking the idea.

"That's her job, JJ," Gideon excused, crossing his arms, "Her whole job is putting her life at risk and fighting people to save others. She doesn't even flinch when at danger."

"She's still a human being who deserves to live. Just because she's the strongest in the BAU doesn't give us the right to push her around as if she's invincible," Penelope raised her voice, standing up from her seat.

"Penelope's right," Spencer quietly spoke, "She's still a human being who's been through something and that's why she doesn't flinch. She's used to the danger."

"And that's why this conversation stops," Derek cut them all off, "She's allowed some privacy."

Silence filled the room, making Gideon nod.

"Then the case is closed. We caught the unsub. Wheels up in 30."

•••

Sitting on the plane, Valentizina sat alone once more, a pen holding her long hair up in a small low, messy bun. The finished case file laid in front of her on the table, making her sigh and lift up the side of her shirt ever so slightly to look at the dark purple, green and yellow bruise. She dropped her shirt, licking her dry lips, looking out the window.

"Hey," Spencer appeared beside Valentizina, making her look up at him. He gave her a smile before sitting down, accidentally knocking down her empty cup of coffee making his eyes widen, picking it back up, elbowing the pencil case off the table. Spencer grimaced, leaning down to pick it up but hitting his head on the way up.

Valentizina sat there, awaiting for him to sort himself out.

He sighed, placing the pencil case back on the table carefully.

"Sorry," he mumbled, licking his lips and finally calming himself down, "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

"I just uh... I just came to, you know, check up."

She didn't reply, making Spencer let out a breath, leaning his elbows against the table.

"That was amazing. You could have... Died."

She didn't reply, making him give her a small smile, shuffling to leave the girl alone. Yet the redhead looked out the window, speaking up.

"I've got nothing."

Spencer froze, looking back at the petite, injured girl.

"I guess it's easy having nothing. Because nothing can't be taken away from you. And if I was to die, I wouldn't want anyone to save me."

"But why?"

"I wouldn't want to come back to nothing."

Spencer didn't know how to reply. Valentizina knew that. Instead, she just looked at him, a blank expression on her face. Yet, she nodded at him, allowing him to leave. Spencer stood up, giving her one last look.

"It's all about acceptance. Because you do have something, Valentine. You just need to accept it."

She's got him, even if she didn't know that.

And Spencer finally look away, walking back to join the others, who were either asleep or had headphones in. He joined Derek's side, giving him a smile that was returned before taking a book out of his bag.

Alice In Wonderland.

About a lonely woman who no one understood, and found peace in, what could be, an illusion she had created to comfort herself.

Just like Valentizina created an illusion that she was okay.

•*•*•